The River
by readernurse
Summary: When Merlin has to use magic to save Arthur, he ends up getting hurt in the process. Trapped in a blizzard, freezing, will the two young men be able to make it? And who will be the unexpected rescuer?
1. The River

**A/N:**  
**OK guys, so I need your advice here. This idea popped into my head last night, so I started writing it out today. I still am only a couple chapters into my other fic, Betrayal. Should I pick this up or wait until I finish Betrayal? There is a poll on my profile asking you, so please answer. If you have not read Betrayal yet, I recommend reading it before you decide...I left it a bit of a cliffie. Let me know what you think!**

**I don't own merlin**

Merlin felt the cold water race around them, trying to pull he and Arthur into the depths of the icy river. He could see Arthur gasping, trying to keep his head above water as the chainmail weighed him down, adding to the pull of the racing current. "M-merlin!" He spluttered, before being pulled under again. Merlin knew he had to do something quickly, before they froze, drowned, or went over the edge of the waterfall he knew was coming. He wasn't able to stop the water, and he was now shivering so hard he could barely talk. He couldn't risk incanting a spell right now – a misspoken word could be dangerous in magic. He would have to rely on his instinctive magic. He waited until Arthur came up again before pulling at the depths of his magic, sending a wave towards Arthur. Arthur flew up out of the water, onto the rocky shore and hit a tree, collapsing down to the ground.

Just as Merlin let out a sigh of relief that Arthur was safe, he felt a sharp pain in his side, gasping for air as a wave washed over him, causing him to inhale the frigid water. As soon as the water hit his lungs, merlin started coughing, worsening the pain in his side. He looked down at his side, only then realizing that the water was coursing around him – he was stuck on a log going up towards bank, a ways downstream from Arthur. Next he realized that the water coming from his side had a slight pink tinge to it, indicating the pain was from a cut. When he tried to shift positions, he had to bite his lip to not scream from the intense pain the movement had caused. He could feel himself starting to move slower, probably a combination of the cold and blood loss. He still could not see how serious the wound was. He needed to get out of the water now, or he would die. He used his magic to push himself away from the log, pushing also at the branch that had impaled him. He gritted his teeth as he felt the wound stretch with the branch, then separate and begin bleeding freely. He could feel himself start to slip into unconsciousness, barely muttering _"__Me__ad__terram__"_ and feeling himself lift towards the land before slipping into the darkness that felt so warm.

**So? to continue or not to continue? That is the question...**


	2. Rescued for now

**A/N: Thank you so much to… Bookwormiie, Ellena Tyler, TeganL74, lordstarlight, Hiphuggers2, Ali-Apple, Sheila90, Su, Alison Burns, Myuunel, Thebedroomwriter, White-moon-Xx, FranGipani6181, Ocean Mint Leaves, Martha, carinims01, wung, chibitomodachi, intensewhatever, xoxoGossipGirls, Yabbit, SwitzDandelion, dolphingirl1991, Merlinfanatic77, BabyGlover, and merlinandfreyaFTW, LenleG, and the guest for reviewing, favoriting, or if I missed anyone - all you readers are swell!  
**

**I am so sorry for posting teh first bit when I had no clue what the plot was, but now I have a solid idea! Please read and let me know what you think...I am working 12 hours tomorrow, but will try to update the day after. **

**I don't own Merlin. :(**

**Chapter 2. Rescued..for now.  
**

As Arthur slowly drifted back into consciousness, his first thought was of how _cold_ he was. It was the kind of cold that settles in your bones and takes soaking in a hot bath to get out. Trying to pull the blankets tighter around himself, he wished Merlin would stoke the fire.

_Merlin!_

Jolting awake, memories of what had happened flooded back to him. He, Merlin, and some of the knights had been out on a patrol of Camelot's border with Essetir when a blizzard had swept in from the other side of the mountains. It had been blinding, and you could hardly see three feet in front of you, but they had pressed on, hoping to find some shelter. The winds had been howling, making it difficult to hear each other.

Merlin had been yelling something to him, but then all the horses had spooked and taken off in different directions. Arthur remembered trying to hold on to his horse, get it to slow down or something, then feeling the horse fall and going over a ledge. He tried to remember what had happened after that, but every time he searched for the memory, his head throbbed painfully.

Instead, he contented himself with looking around his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was. It looked like a large cave, the walls were very high and the ground was covered only in dirt. Arthur was covered in a stack of blankets, his clothes lying nearby, and there were fires on either side of him. Even with all that, he shivered from the cold.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Arthur tried to get a better look at his surroundings and find out how he had gotten there. He caught sight of a man bending over something on the other side of one of the fires, and sat up to get a better look. At the rustling of the blankets falling of him, the man jerked and turned around.

He was a large man, his long black hair curling lightly around his sharp features. There were wisps of gray through his hair and beard, showing his age. The thing that impressed Arthur the most, though, was the depth of his eyes. They showed tales of strength, sorrow, betrayal, hurt, power, and wisdom. The man's bushy eyebrows rose as Arthur studied him, then the man turned away and directed his attention back to whatever was on the other side.

Arthur had many questions for the man – Who was he, where were they, what had happened, what was he doing – but when he tried to speak, all that came out was a croak, which sent Arthur into a fit of coughs that racked his whole body. He coughed up some fluid, and suddenly the large man was at his side, rubbing his back and handing him a towel.

Soon enough, the coughs subsided and a cup of warm liquid was pressed into his hands. Once he got his breathing under control, Arthur took a sip of the liquid and felt it warm his mouth and chest. Looking up at the man, he tried to speak again, but this time softer.

"Who are you?"

The man stared at him, unnerving Arthur a bit, before finally replying.

"Balinor." He said simply, before turning around to walk back to where he had been crouching before.

"Wait! Where is this? How did I get here?" Arthur pushed himself up further and tried to see what the man was doing, but the light from the fire made it difficult to see what was on the other side. The man was walking around collecting items, and Arthur was just beginning to think that he wouldn't answer when Balinor spoke.

"This is in the Feorre Mountains, and I brought you here. I found you by the river above the waterfall, and your friend was still partially in the water." He spoke for a little more about what condition they were in, but Arthur was stuck on the bit about his friend. When Balinor had said that, he had remembered what happened after he went over the ledge.

_He was sliding over the ice, frantically grabbing for anything he could hold onto. He tried to dig his hands or boots into the snow, but the layer of ice over the top was too thick. Just as he went over the ledge and felt the empty air beneath him, his hand connected with something. Grabbing on, he felt it jerk but hold. _

_When he felt it grab back, he looked up and realized it was Merlin holding onto him. They were dangling over the edge, Merlin still on solid ground, but his upper body pulled forward as his other arm held onto something above him, keeping both men from falling. _

"_I said we should find shelter, not water!" he shouted above the wind, grinning even as Arthur could see the strain on his face. In full armor, the fact that Merlin was able to hold him amazed Arthur. Finally catching what he had said, Arthur looked down to see a raging river flowing about four meters beneath his feet. Looking up, he caught Merlin's wince as he pulled on his arm even more. Only Merlin could make a joke in this situation. As Arthur opened his mouth to reply, Merlin's arm jerked and a look of horror crossed his manservant's face. Just as Arthur realized what that meant, he felt himself falling again, this time watching as Merlin followed him over the ledge, still holding onto the broken branch that had held them up. _

_They had hit the water, and Arthur had quickly been pulled under by his armor, trying to call out to Merlin while keeping himself above water. Resurfacing, the wind was knocked out of him as a great force knocked him back, up and out of the water, and something hard hit his back before everything went black. _

"Merlin!" Arthur tried to get to his feet and go to him, but the blankets were wrapped tightly around him, preventing him from getting up. "Where is he? Is he hurt?" At the curious glance the large man gave him, Arthur composed himself a little more and tried to explain. "He is my responsibility, I need to know if he is injured."

"He's here, but he's lost a lot of blood."

Arthur had been trying to disentangle himself from the blankets, and finally succeeded. Hearing Balinor say that Merlin had lost a lot of blood made him hurry even more - keeping one blanket wrapped around himself - over to where the man was kneeling down again. Once he got there, though, he was shocked at what he saw.

Merlin was laying there, furs stacked over his legs and chest, multiple fires surrounding him, trying to warm him up. The young man himself was pale, his hair still a little damp, and his skin clammy. His stomach was uncovered, showing a small pile of bandages soaked with blood.

Balinor took off those bandages, opening a jar of paste that he began to rub over the wound. There was a large hole in Merlin's stomach, blood slowly oozing out of it and sharply contrasting the white of his skin.

"What happened?" Arthur breathed, watching as Balinor covered the wound with the gray paste.

"It looked like he was pushed into a branch by the river." The man responded shortly, wiping the extra paste from his hands onto some other, smaller scratches on Merlin before looking up. "You should try to get warm, boy." he said, nodding to the pile of blankets Arthur had left behind. Arthur just kept staring at the wound on Merlin's abdomen, though.

"Will he be alright?" Arthur could tell Merlin was anything but alright right now – his lips and fingers were a deep purple, and he didn't even look like he was breathing - but Arthur still held out some hope that the man would have some miraculous cure, would be able to help Merlin get back to normal.

"I'm doing everything I can." Arthur noticed the man didn't actually answer his question, which made him feel even worse.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Balinor's silence stretched just long enough to tell Arthur that he disliked all the questions, but he did eventually answer.

"Bring those blankets. Lay next to him and keep him warm. It should warm you up as well."

Happy to have something to do, Arthur rushed to collect the blankets he had been laying under when he woke up, and returned just as Balinor finished tying off the bandage. Realizing now what he was supposed to do, he tried to push away the awkward feeling as he laid down next to Merlin and tried to get as close to the young man as possible. Once he touched Merlin skin, though, he jerked back. His arms and legs were almost like ice, they were so cold. Even with the fires going, there was little heat coming from the unconscious young servant. Preparing himself, Arthur took a breath and snuggled closer, thinking of Merlin's face when he caught Arthur at the ledge. He had to do everything he could to help.

Balinor laid the extra blankets over them and stoked the fires around the two boys. With that done, he settled down by another fire, this one heating a pot.

As time went by, Arthur began to smell the stew in the pot and realized how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten in...well, he didn't know how long, but since they had packed up camp that morning. The man looked up from the pot and motioned for Arthur to get up and come to the fire.

Once he was settled with a bowl of hot stew in his hands, he began wolfing it down. He finished the first bowl and at the second, decided to slow down.

"Sooo...You live here?" He looked around at the cave, seeing the cloths hanging from strings strung across the area, and the shelf with rough wooden figures on it. There was also a small trunk with a lock on it.

"Yes." Arthur waited for more, but none seemed forthcoming.

"Well, I will see that you are rewarded for your help. I am Prince Arthur of Camelot, and this is my manservant, Merlin." Balinor stiffened when he heard Arthur's name and set his bowl down before rising to leave.

"I seek no reward. As soon as the boy wakes you will need to leave." Saying that, he turned and walked out of the range of the firelight, toward the sound of wind whistling outside of the cave, leaving a baffled Arthur staring after him.

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**So? Review and let me know what you think, please. What will happen next? Any ideas?**

**Thank you for reading!**


	3. Friend or Foe?

**A/N: So...remember this story? the one I thought would be updated four months ago? Yeah...*rubs back of neck* well, you see...there was this big explosion that destroyed my computer, and then I had amnesia, and then...yeah, nevermind. No good excuses, but lots of apologies. And most of the rest of this story is already typed and everything, so there really shouldn't be too much of a delay for the rest. **

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews and favorites and follows! You guys are fantastic!**

**Hope you enjoy...**

It was some time later when the man returned from the mouth of the cave. Arthur had already resumed his earlier position trying to warm Merlin up, and it did seem to be doing a little good. Merlin was not quite as pale as he had been before, and his lips were not as dark a purple as they had been when Arthur first woke.

Balinor paid them little attention as he laid more wood on the fires, stirring them up before collecting a small blade and block of wood, settling next to the cooking fire and lifting his hood over his face as he began to form he small block of wood into another shape. It was obvious conversation was not welcome.

Arthur watched the man whittle the piece of wood, trying to puzzle out his earlier reaction. Even with the man being a recluse, most people would jump at the opportunity to claim a reward from the prince. He could have asked for anything, and Arthur would have done his best to fulfill it. This man, however, seemed to dislike the idea of any royalty. _ Maybe he is a criminal_. The thought briefly crossed Arthur's mind, but he quickly brushed it off. No matter the reason for his strange behavior, this man struck Arthur as an honorable man, helping two strangers he had found in a storm. _He said he found us by the river. How did we get out? Why was he even out in the storm? _ Arthur stared through the flames at the man who was like a puzzle that Arthur couldn't solve. Merlin gave him the same feeling occasionally – the feeling that there was something there, so close, that if he just got one more piece – one more clue to the riddle – that he would be able to solve what it was that made the man such an enigma.

~/A\~

Arthur hadn't been asleep long when Merlin's shivering woke him, although shivering seemed an inadequate description of the violent tremors that wracked the young man's body.

"Merlin?" Arthur was still half asleep, but woke quickly. "Merlin!"

His voice drew the attention of the man still working his wood by the fire, who quickly came over to the small mound of blankets under which Arthur and Merlin were huddled.

"What's wrong? What's happening to him?" Arthur stopped himself and forced himself to take a few breaths, noticing the hint of panic that had found its way into his voice.

"Nothing's wrong. This is just his body trying to warm itself up." Balinor felt different areas of Merlin's skin, trying to gauge the young warlock's temperature. He also pulled the blankets back, looking at the bandage around Merlin's stomach.

"Put one of your arms under his head to make sure he doesn't hurt himself." Balinor said, folding a blanket to place under Merlin's head while he positioned Arthur's arm. "Also, hold pressure to his wound. The cold was slowing the bleeding, but the warmth and movement will aggravate it."

While Arthur tried to keep Merlin from hurting himself –_ only this idiot would be able to injure himself while unconscious _– Balinor busied himself around them, putting more wood on the fires, boiling snow, and eventually bringing over two water skins filled with hot water, which he placed in Merlin's armpits.

It seemed an eternity before Merlin's shaking lessened, eventually settling for the occasional shiver. By then, blood had begun to seep through the bandages, so Arthur moved out of the way, hovering nearby while Balinor changed the cloths and applied a fresh layer of the paste he had used before.

Feeling even more exhausted than he had before, Arthur fell asleep almost as soon as he lay back down next to Merlin. Drifting into slumber, he did notice gratefully that Merlin was almost back to a normal temperature again.

~/M\~

The storm gave time a strange feeling, blocking out the rise and passage of the sun. Regardless of the exact time, most of the next day was spent once again trying to normalize Merlin's temperature. It had overshot normal and risen to a burning fever as his body reacted to the wound in his side.

The only good event that happened throughout the day was the wind slowing down, and even eventually the snow stopping. It was still almost impossible to leave the confines of the cave due to the large drifts covering much of the entrance, but it meant help would be sent soon.

As the sun was setting, Arthur went to the mouth of the cave, collecting more snow to pack around Merlin in an attempt to cool the fever. Coming back into the main area of the cave, he found Balinor leaning over Merlin, one hand resting on Merlin's forehead, the other on Merlin's abdomen. Hearing the foreign words coming from Balinor's mouth, Arthur's mind flashed back to the thought of Balinor being a criminal. He had easily dismissed it before, but perhaps he had misjudged the man. Looking around for a weapon, Arthur's eyes found the small blade Balinor used to form his carvings. Grabbing it and crossing the short distance, he placed the blade against the older man's neck, voice coming out in a deadly tone.

"Get away from him. Now."


	4. A New development?

**A/N:Alright, I find it very frustrating switching between Word and FF. The chapter seems so much longer on Word, then I upload it and you barely have to scroll. Grr. Anywho, sorry for the short length. I am going for more frequent, shorter updates. Hope this works! Thank you so much to everyone who favorited, folloed, and reviewed. You are helping me get out of the writer's block I was stuck in. Also, to those of you also reading Betrayal - I will update that soon! I needed to get my creative juices flowing, and felt I had more 'wiggle room' (am I the only one who uses that term?) in this story than in Betrayal - I plan to update that later this week, though.**

**Also, I am thinking of this as set either later Season 1 or early season 2. Didn't really have a specific episode in mind or anything. **

**Hope you enjoy the chapter! Balinor was difficult to write, so let me know what you think - not sure I got him right.**

Balinor stiffened when he felt the cold metal against his neck, but did not move otherwise. Tightening his grip on the knife and pressing it into the man's skin a little more, Arthur repeated the command.

"Stop what you are doing and get your hands off of him." The threat was clear in Arthur's voice, and Balinor slowly raised his hands away from Merlin. "What were you doing? And don't try to lie to me." The knife remained pressed against Balinor's skin as he rose to his feet and turned to face Arthur.

"It was an ancient prayer for healing." Balinor's voice was steady and even though he was still facing away from Arthur, his posture did not betray any fear.

"It was sorcery." Arthur was furious at the thought of this man casting a spell on Merlin, and unconsciously applied more pressure to the skin on Balinor's neck, breaking the skin. In an instant, Balinor spun around, knocking the blade from Arthurs hand and shoving him against the wall.

"And if it was, Boy?" Balinor's previously calm voice was now laced with anger, his face a mask of fury and hatred. "You are in Essetir. Your father's laws have no say here. You and your servant would be dead now if not for me, so do not be foolish enough to fight me – even if only for his sake." Balinor finished his sentence by jerking his head toward the young man lying on the ground, oblivious to the fight of wills going on above him.

Arthur didn't know what to do. Balinor was right, he had saved both Merlin and Arthur, and Cenred did not hold the same views on magic that Uther did. He would probably have Merlin and Arthur killed if they were found.

The rough sound of coughing pulled his attention over to Merlin, who was beginning to stir. Pulling himself away from Balinor, who let him go, he knelt next to the young warlock.

"Rr.." Another bout of coughs wracked Merlin's body, making Arthur wince at the sound. "Arthrr…" the word finally made its way out, Merlin beginning to thrash around.

"Merlin! Hold still, Merlin." Arthur tried to calm Merlin down, but it seemed to only agitate the boy further. "Just hold on, Merlin. We'll get you back to Gaius soon, and he'll be able to fix you up."

"Nnn…elp…'t hurts, Gaius." The mumbled words tore through Arthur's heart, making him even more furious at the situation. Merlin was seriously ill, and because of the storm, Balinor was the only help they could rely on, and now he was a sorcerer! Who knew what crimes he had committed to force him to hide like this, living in a cave to avoid people?

As Arthur was sitting debating whether to allow Balinor to help anymore and how long it would be until Merlin would be well enough to tolerate the trip to Camelot, Balinor's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Did you say Gaius?"

Surprised at the question from the normally quiet man, Arthur was shocked into answering. "Yes, He's Camelot's Court Physician and Merlin's uncle."

A twinge of recognition and something else – curiosity? Hope? Arthur wasn't sure what it was, and it was gone too quickly for him to place the emotion. Merlin had started coughing again, so Arthur turned his attention back to the young warlock and pushed the flicker of emotion from his mind.

When he became aware of Balinor standing almost immediately behind him, Arthur stiffened and turned around to face him. His caution was unneeded as it was not a weapon, but a wineskin that Balinor was holding.

"It will soothe his throat and make it easier to breathe. Best to get him to drink it while he's awake – never know when he might wake up next." Not waiting for a reply, Balinor tossed the wineskin to the ground next to Merlin, then walked back to the fire he had been by previously.

Staring after the man, Arthur decided he disliked people who were puzzles. Merlin was frustrating enough, but this man held the same quality – why would he help Merlin if just moments ago he had been casting some sort of enchantment over him? Magic users always seemed to have some ulterior motive, and Balinor was the most confusing of them all. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Arthur knelt down to get Merlin to drink.

He could think of Balinor's motives later. Now, he needed to get Merlin well enough to return to Camelot. Then he would have all the time he needed to think about what the sorcerer was trying to accomplish. They just had to get home.


	5. The Awakening

Arthur sat watching Merlin, trying to keep himself awake as the quiet lured him to sleep. The storm had ended, leaving a blanket of white visible outside the cave, gleaming as the moon reflected off of it. It seemed every animal in the normal noisy forest was trying to keep warm, as the only noise was the occasional sound of an owl's hoot. Even the fire inside the cave had burned down to the last few embers, glowing softly with the occasional 'pop' to help Arthur stay aware.

After finding Balinor performing magic on Merlin, Arthur found that the tentative trust he had developed with the man had disappeared. Balinor sat on the other side of the cave, seemingly lost in thought as he finished one carving – it appeared to be of a large wolf – and started on another. Arthur was only too happy to let the man stay there, as he had many thoughts of his own occupying his mind.

Running a hand through his hair, he tried not to sigh as he considered the current predicament. Balinor was right; they were no longer in Camelot. His royalty, instead of being a blessing, was more of a liability in this situation. Not that any of Lot's soldiers would be out in this weather, but… there was always the chance Balinor would turn them in. Looking up at the man, Arthur decided the chances of that happening were pretty slim. He seemed the type that would keep to himself.

Arthur wondered once more how Merlin and he had gotten out of the water. Balinor had said he found them on the riverbank, but Arthur's memory after falling into the river was a bit blurry. Mostly that it was freezing cold, hard to breathe, and he was trying to find Merlin. He seemed to remember being pushed out of the water before hitting his head, but the more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed. No one was there but he and Merlin, and there would hardly be any sorcerers willing to save Arthur. Although, maybe Balinor had used magic to pull them out and lied about finding them. Would he do that? Glancing at the man, Arthur decided he would rather leave that unanswered than bringing up that particular issue to the man. Maybe Merlin would remember more when he woke up.

Then there was the issue of eventually leaving. It would be a long time before Merlin would be able to make the trip back over the mountains to Camelot. His father would certainly send out search parties, but no large groups could wander too far into Lot's lands for fear of it being considered a gesture of hostility. Maybe if he could get Merlin to Ealdor, then Arthur could leave Merlin with his mother while he went to get help, or buy a cart to take Merlin back to Gaius. Of course, Merlin would have to wake up first.

Looking over to Merlin, Arthur's thoughts turned another direction. The fever was going down, and they no longer were cooling Merlin with snow, but he only had one blanket covering his legs. Bandages wrapped around his abdomen, leaving only his chest and arms exposed. The thing that puzzled Arthur was the fist-sized scar on the front of Merlin's chest. When Merlin had first begun training with Arthur and the knights, there had been a few times he had been cut, and had to take his shirt off for them to inspect the wound. However, Arthur would have sworn he had never seen that scar before. When could Merlin have gotten it, and what could have caused such an injury? It had the shiny, bunched look of a burn, but Arthur could not imagine what would make such a burn.

Realizing how little he knew about his manservant, Arthur took the chance to inspect the boy further – it gave him something to do. Merlin had always seemed like a gust of wind would blow him over, but now seeing him without the servant's garb on, he looked – Arthur couldn't believe he was thinking this – _strong_. It was not the kind of strong you saw in large knights, but in his arms and chest you could see the definition that came from a life of working with your hands. His hands were covered with calluses, and there were small scars up and down his arms. Nothing to the extent of the burn on his chest, though, which drew Arthur's thoughts once more to how Merlin could have gotten such a scar?

A small cough drew him away, though, and he looked up into Merlin's perplexed – and somewhat embarrassed - eyes.

"Studying why it is all the women prefer my company to yours?" Merlin voice was quiet, and the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Still, it was so good to see him _awake_, and not in the throes of the fever anymore.

Instantly awake, Arthur jerked upright before realizing what Merlin had said – he had caught Arthur staring at him. Feeling a blush trying to appear, he quickly tried to come up with a response.

"Of course not! I was just… trying to figure out what is wrong with you that you are so constantly clumsy. It's a wonder you don't have more scars." Oops. He had not meant to say anything about the scar until later, when they were back in Camelot and not in quite such a difficult dilemma.

Merlin, of course, just kept on talking.

"Yes, well, the ladies love a man with a scar or two. Where are we?" Trying to sit up, Merlin quickly gasped and fell back down, holding a hand to his side.

"Idiot! Don't try to get up." Arthur was instantly at his side, one hand holding him down, though Merlin didn't seem like he was going to try that again. However, hearing movement on the other side of the cave, he did turn a little too sharply to see who it was. Seeing that the older man had noticed Merlin's change as well and was beginning to approach, Arthur watched him, still wary from what had happened before.

"Merlin, this is Balinor." Arthur said once Balinor was standing on Merlin's other side.

"Hello." Merlin said, trying to smile up at the man, who watched a few more seconds until Merlin began to squirm under the strong gaze, and then he turned away.

"I'll get you something to eat."

Merlin watched him leave, before turning back to Arthur, an obvious question in his eyes. Arthur just shook his head, motioning he'd explain later.

"The storm just stopped, but now there's snow up to my waist out there. Balinor lives here, and has been letting us stay while you recovered." Merlin nodded his head, looking toward the mouth of the cave, where the sun was just beginning to rise, reflecting off of the ice in the trees. Arthur let a moment more pass before curiosity got the better of him.

"How much do you remember?"

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Sorry it's so late! I had most of it typed before, just wasn't sure I liked it and then got busy with work. Next chapter should be must faster. So, what do you think? Did Arthur's thoughts make any sense?


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